Devotion So Dangerous
by TriggerTrogger
Summary: One blow can knock your whole world asunder.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: If I owned any part of Bones, I wouldn't preempt for American Idol every spring.

By the time Brennan unlocked her front door and stepped inside, she felt exhausted. She'd gone by Booth's apartment and his office, called his cell, sent him a text…all to no avail. She could only guess that he'd either gone off some place where she wouldn't think to look or he was intentionally ignoring her. Both seemed to be equal possibilities.

She kicked off her shoes as she edged towards the couch, but, before she could sit down, she froze. At any other time her half seated position might have been comical, but instead all she could do was focus on the scuffling sounds coming from the direction of her bedroom.

Within seconds she straightened up and hurried further into her apartment. She was either being robbed or -

"Booth…" Brennan breathed out when she found him moving around her bedroom. The only sound to greet her was the protesting screech of one of her dresser drawers as he yanked it open. It was only then that her brain registered the half-stuffed duffel bags on her bed and the whirlwind appearance of her room.

"Booth!" she tried again, more insistently this time.

When he still failed to respond, failed to even _look_ at her, she walked in between him and the bed as he headed back from another drawer. This time she caught the flicker of acknowledgement as it passed over his face…right before he abruptly pushed her aside.

"Don't bother, Bones." The single sentence dropped heavily into the dead air. He blindly stuffed a handful of shirts into the nearest duffel before walking briskly towards the closet.

"Please…

"I can't believe how blind I've been." The words started to spill out of him, even as he continued to refuse to look at her. He yanked a few dress shirts off of their hangers, and she could hear as a button pinged off of the closet door. "I mean, really? How many times have you 'worked late', or 'had to write', or 'it's been a rough case, Booth, I just want to go home and sleep'?"

Brennan tried to move in front of him again, tried to _force_ him to at least stop and talk _to_ her, not just at the room, but he deftly dodged right around her.

"What was it tonight? 'I have a meeting with my publisher.' What a crock of shit," Booth spit out. He practically punched the next shirt into the bag.

"If you'd just let me explain," she whispered. The world was both figuratively and literally spinning. The pounding in her chest and in her temple only accentuated Booth's frenzied movement around the room, and all she could do was stand in the middle – the center of all the turmoil.

Booth paused at the dresser. Maybe he was watching her in the mirror or maybe the reflections he was seeing were of what he'd seen earlier in the evening. "Let me guess, he's your new publisher, and you just haven't had a chance to tell me."

"Booth…" This time her voice was pleading, breaking.

"Except for the fact that Anna called two days ago and left a message on your machine, and I was standing right next to you when you listened to it. You'd think she'd have known she was quitting or getting fired, or maybe she just won the lottery and moved to Bermuda overnight. Is that it? Should we send her a 'Congratulations on winning millions of dollars' card?" With a jerking shake of his head, Booth pulled himself out of his reverie and started grabbing random objects off of the dresser. "I guess we probably don't have her new address though."

Something in this last tirade sparked something in Brennan though, and she stepped towards him. Her hands sliced through the air in front of her as she insisted, "This isn't that serious."

Finally, this was enough to get Booth's full attention. Throwing a can of deodorant in the direction of the bed, he turned on her so fast that she had to take a quick step back, and even then he had grabbed her by her upper arms before she could get out of the way. "Not that serious? Bones, I'm packing my things. Is that serious enough for you?"

Brennan could see the rage burning in his eyes. Now that she had his attention, she couldn't escape it. His hands were gripping her arms tight enough to hurt, but she didn't see any sign that he was planning on letting go. She never was one to be intimidated, though, so instead she pushed back. "No, I say you're overreacting."

Her back thumped against the wall before she ever saw it coming. Booth still had a tight grip of her arms, so it was more as if he'd forcefully walked her into the wall rather than pushed her. It hadn't hurt in the slightest, but her mouth still dropped open.

Now it wasn't just the anger that Brennan could see. His arms were trembling as his chest jerked in and out, and his face was pinched in such a way as if he was truly fighting for control.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you want me to do, Bones?" Booth gasped out between breaths. "Do you want me to shove you around?" She felt the pressure on her arms increase slightly. "Do you want me to hit you? Would that make it clear just how much I'm _not_ overreacting? Would that tell you how big of a deal this is?"

Brennan stared up into his burning eyes for a few silent moments before she brought one hand up and laid it flat on his chest. She didn't try to push him away. Instead, she left her hand there, feeling his heart race under her palm. "You would never hurt me," she said quietly, her eyes never leaving his.

"Are you sure about that? Because right now it's really damned tempting," he shot back. Her calm blue eyes just stared back at him. There was a part of him, deep down, that wanted to really knock her world sideways and show her just how little her faith in him meant. She would deserve it. After all, he'd just discovered how worthless his faith in her was. It was the rest of him that won though. The sane part, the everyday Booth balanced back, just ever so slightly, off those calm, unquestioning eyes.

Booth's hands dropped away from her as he took a couple of steps back. His penetrating stare dropped away to the floor as well, and he stood there, feeling still helplessly out of control, clenching his hands into fists. As the silence stretched past a minute, he turned away again. Bending down to pick up the stray deodorant can, he walked towards the bed and started tucking a few stray items back into the bags. "Fuck, just how much stuff have I brought over here," he muttered under his breath.

Brennan watched him as his hands moved aimlessly over his things, straightening what was already a hopeless disaster of possessions. "Will you let me explain now?"

"What is there to explain?" Booth questioned, his voice quiet now. "You're cheating on me. I really don't want the details."

"I'm not cheating on you," Brennan insisted. She had only taken a few steps closer when he turned and glared her back.

"Spare me the anthropological bullshit about how monogamy is pointless, and we're all programmed to spread our seed. Blah, blah, blah. Or maybe it's not cheating if there isn't a permanent commitment between two people?"

A harsh puff of hair flared Brennan's nostrils as she glared right back at him. "That's not what I meant."

Booth stared down at the official FBI t-shirt that found its way into his hands. It wasn't one he'd worn in quite some time. Of course it had to be the one that she'd claimed as 'hers'. "Jesus…I can't believe how big of a fucking idiot I am. Here I am thinking that things are really good between us. We seemed happy. _You_ seemed _happy_! So I'm starting to think that maybe I'd finally gotten to you. Maybe I'd changed your mind about commitment and love. I was thinking maybe, just _maybe_, we actually had a future together. But I guess it was the other guy making you happy, huh? I'm such a schmuck."

"I never slept with him," Brennan finally blurted out.

Booth's head jerked around so he could see her. "What?"

"I've never even kissed him," she insisted. Even as she kept the distance between them, she felt the pull towards him deep in her belly. She wanted nothing more than to put her hands on him, to reassure him, to comfort him, but the tortured expression on his face made it clear that wasn't a good idea.

He sank slowly onto the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands. "Don't jerk me around, Bones. I saw how he looked at you. I saw his hand on you. This wasn't some guy you'd just met for the first time, and you weren't pulling away. This is my thing, remember? Reading people's body language?"

Now that she couldn't feel the burning intensity of his eyes, Brennan dared to walk a little closer. "I'm not lying to you."

"So? Emotional cheating is just as bad as physical cheating. You don't have to screw somebody in order to be unfaithful. Obviously there's something that you're not getting from me if you're dating someone else. Is it like that time when you were seeing the two guys? One was good for sex, and the other was good for conversation?"

The fact that he thought she could think so little of his company was physically painful for Brennan. "No, Booth!"

"I love you," he said, the harshness in his tone belying the sentiment. "I thought you at least cared about me. I didn't think it was just about sex for you, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe – "

Before he could keep pushing them deeper into a hole, Brennan couldn't help herself. She blurted out the one thing that she knew would stop him cold. "I…I found the ring," she admitted.

Booth's head snapped up, and his eyes locked onto hers. "You…when?"


End file.
